Look after me
by Word-waterfall
Summary: [ALTUNIVERSE] [6th Year] Harry is ill, sure he breaks bones, gets knocked out but Harry never gets ill, But when he does, Who'll help him? [dramaAngstRomance]
1. Delusion

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Angel-Of-Lightness

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

**Look after me: Chapter one  
**  
Harry was asleep. I sighed, relived. He was quiet, no dreams of terror or death were haunting him, no moans and horrified whispers escaped him. I gently placed my hand on his forehead -he had a fever- and I let out another sigh. He was still ill. Sweat covered his face, almost as if his blood is boiling beneath his skin, making it red and inflamed. He stirred and opened his eyes slightly. I noticed instantly that they weren't green anymore they were...dull, dull with flecks of green. I tilted my head at my description, and laughed to myself. Dull isn't a color, where was my sense?

"Mum?" Harry croaked, painfully delusional.

"No" I took his hand, inwardly cringing at the fact that Harry thought I was his mother, His mother who had been dead for almost his whole life. I planted a soft kiss on his knuckles. "No, Harry, It's me, Hermione" He didn't even move. His sore muscles were too painful to even try to move. "How are you feeling?" I asked, instantly feeling it was a Stupid question.

"Fine" He coughed out, chest heaving and the word audibly scratching against his throat.

I sighed, again. I should have taken up sighing for a living.

"Are you warm enough?" As if to answer my question, He shivered. He shuffled deeper into the mix of sheets and blankets twisted amongst his limbs, as much as his stiff muscles would allow. I pulled an extra blanket from Ron's four- poster, and pulled it over him. A ghost of a smile flittered across his face, but died away just as quickly. He began to cough violently, his chest heaving.

"Harry!" I cried alarmed, pulling him to a sitting position "I _really_ should take you to Madam Pomfrey!"

"No!" He shouted as loud and as forcibly as he could, "No more hospital wings, nothing!"

I didn't understand this, no more of hospital wings? I know he had seen it plenty of times in his life, but didn't he want to get better? I didn't question him, I should have. Where was Hermione? Hermione who would do everything she thought was right? Hermione who wouldn't listen to Harry when he said he was 'fine'? Only an ill Harry could mess her up like that.

I quietly waved my wand, and muttered "Water". A small cup of water appeared on the table, I held it up to his mouth. His hands shook violently as he tried to hold it himself.

"No, Harry, I'll do it" He nodded, too ill to argue. As he finished, another wave of my wand caused the cup to dissolve into air. I laid him down, and sat back on my knees, resting my head on my arms and watching his fluttering eyelids. He never gets ill, Harry never gets ill. In the quietness of the morning; I slowly floated back to the memory of him getting like this.

_Hermione sat finishing her Defense against the dark arts homework. 'Write a step-by-step account of a perfectly produced patronus, including the incantation and effect.'_

_Ron seemed to be poking her every minute to ask her a stupid question, _

"What's after the incantation?", "How do you draw that?", "Huh?" and often "Hermione! I'm stuck!"  


_Hermione put her hands in her hands "RON! SHUT UP!"_

"Okay, Okay, I was just-" Ron stopped, the color rushing from his face " Harry? What's up? Harry, mate?"

Hermione looked up –alarmed- for Harry had just stumbled, literally stumbled, into the common room. His dark hair was stuck to his forehead by sweat, his glasses were sliding of his nose and he was a deathly white color.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as he swayed, and fell. "Ron we should get him to the hospital wing!"

"No" Ron shook his head, "Get him to his bed"

"_Ron" Hermione frowned "He's ill, we don't know what's wrong with him! We can't help him!"_

"_Harry won't want to go, He'll be angry-" Ron looked as though he was about to be sick, and Hermione was just about to raise her voice to shout at him, when a weak voice pulled her attention._

"_Don't take me to the hospital wing" He swallowed painfully. "Please-" _

"Okay Harry, But on your head be it" Hermione exhaled frustrated, she was doubtful, but didn't want to displease him "Ron? Help me carry him to the dorm"

Ron nodded and took Harry's legs.

The whole common room watched as he was carried, and started following them up the steps.

Hermione looked angrily at the gathered crowd "Don't you have anything better to do!" 

_Many of the students replied "No!", but eventually they all left, grumbling._

I was woken from my half-sleep state by a worried Ron. "How is he?"

"Worse" I shook my head, "Tell McGonagall that he won't be going to lessons again today, tell her...tell her I won't either" What was I saying? Lessons; work was the most important thing to me…but I couldn't tear myself away from him…

Ron looked at me, stunned "You're missing-?"

"Just go!" I said, too tired to explain, or comment on his shock.

He shuffled out of the room, Harry jumped as the door clinked after him, his eyes opening. Cold sweat was now forming on his warm skin.

I sat on the bed, concerned, "Dreaming again, Hun?"

He nodded and settled back on the bed, "You," He said, exhaustion breaking his voice "He tries to take you, always you, he knows"

I suddenly wondered what 'he' knows. 'He' was Voldemort I guessed, But Harry was in no state to question, his eyes were already closed.

I watched him for a few minutes, until I couldn't resist anymore. I needed to wake him up just to be sure.

"Harry?" I said quietly. He stirs, but his eyes stayed shut.

"Harry?" I repeated, a little louder then. His eyes cracked open slightly and I gave him a small smile.

"'Mione" he said, a few coughs followed. I smiled at my pet name and nodded, touching the back of my hand to his forehead. He was definitely warmer.

"Are you all right?" I whispered, already expecting his answer to be that I received every time I asked.

He shook his head, and I blinked.

"I'm beginning to worry." I told him. He looked puzzled at me, and then began to convulse and heave. I jumped, and helped him sit up, conjuring a basin. He took it with shaking hands.

Ten minutes later all he'd brought up was bile.

"Harry, I really think the Hospital wing would be a good idea…"

"No" He coughed, weakly. "Please"

I nodded, worried, I hated to agree but I didn't want to upset him.

"You look a little better anyway." I lied, trying to make him feel better. He shook his head, then quickly stopped, dropping his head into his hands.

"Headache!" He states simply, a small moan escaped his lips.

I conjured him some water, he swallowed it with difficulty. There was not much more I could do without alerting Madam Pomfrey.

"Try and get more sleep, Hun?"

He coughed, but let me help him lie down; He took my hand, looking at me sadly. "Hold me?"

I couldn't help looking surprised, Harry never asked such questions. But he looked so young and vulnerable, I couldn't refuse, I surprised myself even more and agreed, climbed into his bed, and circled my arms around him, he sighed- comfortable for now.

He promptly fell asleep, and I muttered "I love you, Harry, and you scare me"

**A/N: To be continued...**


	2. Silent tears

**Title: Look after me**

Written by: Angel-Of-Lightness

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N: **Well, It's been a long time coming, and I'm really sorry for the wait! Thanks for all the fab reviews! I really appreciate all the time you guys take to read my stories! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside: D So Thank you again!_

**Look after me: Chapter two**

I opened my eyes groggily, I groaned- there was a crick in my neck and my clothes were sticky from the heat radiating from Harry's body. I groaned again. I suddenly remembered where I was. I looked down at Harry's face, his black hair contrasted disturbingly from his pale face, his scar more obvious than never. I brushed his hair back from his face- his skin was clammy and cold, a mystery to me as he radiated such heat. I tutted and shifted out from underneath him. He whimpered quietly and settled back into an uneasy sleep.

I crouched down at the side of his bed- the dorm was quiet. It was mid morning- I found as I looked my watch. Everyone had managed to slip in and out past me pretty easily.

Also- I noted, I had missed two days of lessons! That couldn't be good for my marks! Imagine how much I'd missed...

I stopped; I could be so self-centered sometimes. Here was Harry suffering from some unknown Virus or...something and I was worrying about school.

I felt the overwhelming sense of helplessness as it washed over me. I had read so many books, and I couldn't come up with one solution, not one. Usually- I'd know, If Ron or Harry had a cold- they would come to me first. Now- I couldn't even Help Harry.

I jumped and yelled, startled, as a hand gripped my forearm. I found I was looking straight into the eyes of Harry Potter.

"It's not your fault you know" He whispered looking at me, a distant look was in his eyes, like he was observing me from afar- but he was so close. At least he had a voice today; I noted stupidly, that had to mean he was getting better!

"W...what?" I muttered confused.

"It's not your fault- I'm not Ill because of you" He said.

"It's not anyone's fault that you're ill" I crawled to the side of his bed and stroked the hair from his forehead. "You're so cold!" I breathed "Why are you cold?"

He shrugged weakly- like there was no problem- and rolled from his side onto his back.

I sat next to him on the bed, taking his hand and rubbing it in between mine.

"You're not meant to be this cold!" I muttered- Over and over again. He was un-naturally cold, like he was dead and he just lay there, unresponsive to my fretting.

I sighed and willed my tears to hold back, stay strong for Harry, but they soon were overflowing as I muttered fiercely "Why are you so cold?" He still didn't move. I let go of his hand, and touched his cheek.

"Harry?" I whispered, he said nothing "Harry?" He nodded once but kept his eyes on the ceiling.

"What's wrong with you?"

He turned to look at me sadly "I don't know, 'Mione" I felt a strange feeling, like I knew he was lying but pushed it away.

"I should really go get Madam Pomfrey Harry, or…or Dumbledore, This could be serious. It looks serious!"

"No!" He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth "If Dumbledore really cared he'd be here by now"

I shut my mouth- Harry had been acting like he hated Dumbledore for a while now. It puzzled me and Ron, we often spent hours boggling over the toil of our friend, and his relationship with out headmaster. The more he shut himself off, the more we'd talk about him, the more we talked about him, the more we tried to look after him and to no avail. And now he needs looking after more than ever.

I conjured up a bowl and a damp cloth, and set to cleaning away the grime on him face, and he began to softly cry. I didn't want to ask why he was crying; too afraid of this strong image I held of Harry was going to crumble. I held back my own tears as I listened to his quiet sobs. I wiped away each tear as it fell, convincing myself that as I did it, I was wiping away a problem- making his life right, curing him.

He was probably feeling really lousy, and here I was treating him like a son. He'd never really been treated like this- he was a stranger to love and felt like he didn't deserve it. He had told me all this once, when he had found fire whisky a comfort.

Seamus had snuck it in from Hogsmeade, and Harry had willingly brought a bottle. He was blind drunk when I found him- sitting on a balcony, of all places- and he had poured his heart out to me but I feel as if he still hasn't told me everything even under the effects of alcohol. He was silent again then, silent but strangely stronger than before.


	3. And this is where it leads us

**Title: Look after me **

**Written by:** Angel-Of-Lightness

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N**: Dudes, I'm SO, SO sorry about the wait! Forgive me...Say thanks to Cameron Seiger for waking me up: D_

**Look after me: Chapter three**

Harry turned to look at me. Saying nothing, but there were glints in his eyes- like they were trying to tell me a story. The despair in them almost tore me apart internally, finally I looked away unable to take it any longer. I was incapable of dealing with the raw emotion that poured from his eyes. I looked back at him, and he was staring at the sheet, away from me. Although not as though he really saw it, his eyes were glazed, his glasses removed. I sighed, and whispered a quiet "Sorry" to him, he didn't protest as I pulled his blankets up around him.

I put a hand to the side of his face, and looked at him sadly. "How are you feeling now?" He looked back at me desperately.

"Do you want the truth, or my usual 'Fine'?" He whispered to me, every word looking like it physically hit him.

"What do you think?" I answered, just as quietly. I moved my hand from his face, and wrapped on of his hands in my fingers. He was still clammy, and shaking.

"I've never felt worse in my life, 'Mione"

I inhaled a shuddering breath, I knew he wasn't fine. Of course he wasn't, he'd never _looked_ worse -But hearing him say those words- I shook my head.

"Harry, please let me get help"

His face was screwed up in pain as I said this, and he whispered through gritted teeth "_No, You can't"_

I didn't understand "_Why not!"_

"NO!" He shouted, "Just no" I flinched, and he moaned, collapsing into a fit of painful coughing. I had to pull him to a sitting position and rub his back. When the coughing fit faded, he was left pulling in wrenching, gasping breaths.

I sobbed quietly, pushing myself onto the bed and pulling him to me. His breaths were laboured, but calming down. I held him tighter and clenched my eyes shut.

We sat in silence for a while, until he said quietly.

"I did it to myself"

My eyes opened fast, I kept my hands on his shoulders and pulled back, looking at him for a long time.

Finally; "Pardon?"

He sighed and avoided my eyes, pulling away from my grasp and climbed off the bed. He didn't have enough strength to walk. He admitted a small cough as he fell to his knees beside his trunk, and coughed painfully again, pulling it open. He fished around for what seemed like forever. My fear of what he was going to show me, was worse than anytime before, worse than when I watched him fight the dragon, worse then finding out the cup was a portkey.

He paused and coughed again, slumping slightly onto the trunk. He took a few shuddering breaths and I climbed cautiously of the bed. I walked to his side and held him under the arms, helping him to the bed. He became visibly weaker and weaker as each minute passed.

He held out a clenched fist to me, and opened it. A small vial glinted in the light of the room, I took it between my thumb and index finger, and held it up to my eyes, so I could see the label.

"Oh Harry- You didn't!"

He shuddered but didn't respond, his closed his eyes.

"_Why?"_

"I wanted to end it" He said shortly

"End _What?_"

"Everything" He coughed

I knitted my eyebrows, everything? What did he mean? "Harry, this stuff can _kill_ you! Look what it's done to you! Where did you get it?"

"Snape's office"

I covered my mouth with my hand, ignoring the tears running down my face. Harry had _stolen_ a _poison._ I looked up with him, Maybe, maybe he'd-

"When did you drink this?" I questioned, hoping.

He shook his head, and muttered "Monday" his eyes shutting.

I sobbed into my hands, sliding my knees up to my chest. I couldn't deal with this shock! Harry had drunk a poison...

"Harry!" I sobbed "That was five days ago!"

That poison was already in its fifth stage. I had to get help.


	4. Into the darkness

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Angel-Of-Lightness

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

**Look after me: Chapter Four**

My hands shook as I feel to my knees beside his bed.

"Harry- Why? Why would you do this?" I sobbed into his side, as he lay shivering on the bed. I looked up to his face and could see little beads of sweat forming on his face.

The poison comes from a family of poisons that was used by ancient wizards to kill dangerous Animals and traitors in the middle ages. It must have been in Snape's display cabinet. My hands shook and the bottle fell from my hands, shattering across the wooden floor. I took a gasping breath, steadying myself on the floor. My legs literally came out from under me. The only thing I could think. _Harry's going to die._

This bottle of poison was an advance on the latter. It was designed to cause the most painful death. I don't think Snape expected anyone to read up about it. But I had too. It looked like I wasn't the only one.

I looked up at Harry again; his eyes were slits and his breathing coming fast and uneven. I wished he'd told me earlier! I could have saved him…

I lifted my hands from the floor, blood dripped from my hands, as tears of glass fell from my skin. I pushed myself up to sit next to him, as his eyes fluttered and he shook. Sweat covered his forehead, running down his face.

I moved my hands to his face, leaving blood from the glass caused cuts on my palms.

"Why would you do this?" I questioned him again.

His eyes opened, and he coughed "You don't know what its like!" He looked away from me. But he couldn't! If he looked away, I might never see him again! If...If...

"Know what Harry?" I shook him, and he spluttered and panted "Know what?"

"What it's like!" He gasped "Knowing you're going to kill or be killed. Knowing you're putting your friends in danger with each breathe you take. I read- and I had a theory-"He broke of, gasping madly through coughs. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, I panicked, and shook him again, my eyes widening.

"A theory! You took a poison because of a damned theory!" I was angry, so angry.

He took two deep breathes, regaining his breath and nodded.

"What theory?" I questioned calmer, I needed to know. He'd done something because of a theory! He was a fool!

"If I died, Voldemort would die too! We'd always go on theorys…" This seemed to take the last of his energy, and he lapsed, going limp- and stopped writhing.

"No! You fool, Harry Potter! You godamned fool!" I screamed, my voice shaking around my head. My tears pouring from my eyes. I gathered him into my arms, and put my forehead to his, watching his closed eyelids flutter. His pulse was weak.

I screamed again, "Harry!" A feeble cough escaped him, and he took a few deep breathes each hitching painfully, and soon he was wheezing and coughing his way into breaths. I sobbed into his chest. "Don't Harry!"

My head flung around as the door crashed open. A crowd of people poured in. I pushed Harry from my arms gently and ran. Crashing my arms around Ron and sobbing into his jumper. I looked up, and through blurred vision, saw Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore lifting Harry silently from the bed. Harry's head and legs lolled from their arms horridly, I sobbed hard and my legs gave way again. I felt Ron lower me to the ground. The crowd behind us gasped, whispered and gossiped as the professors carried Harry from the room. I buried myself in Ron's arms. Begging; _Please let Harry be alright. Please, Please-_


	5. Blindly

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Wordwaterfall

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N** Eek! Sorry for the wait! Just a warning, where the line break appears in this chapter, the style of writing change from Hermione's memories, to present time. Don't get too confused, Natalie xox_

**Look after me: Chapter five**

"Ron-"I sobbed, my fists clenched the back of his jumper tightly, the wool becoming weak under my tight grip.

"It's alright, Hermione" He whispered softly, his hands making soft, light circles on my back. Something Harry always did when I was upset, my mind noted with a hint of annoyance. I shook my head, and buried my head deeper into Ron's chest, wiping away my tears, resting assured that Ron could never replace Harry, and a firm belief that he would never try.

I thought of Harry's pale, cold skin again, and tears rushed to my eyes again.

"-He's so ill-Ron- He took-He…" Ron placed a hand on my hair, and silenced me by talking over my stuttered words.

"It doesn't matter, Hermione. Dumbledore will make him better- I promise"

I stopped, my shaky hands released his shirt from my iron grip- I pulled away to look into his eyes.

"No, Ron- It's worse than that…" He needed to know. Dumbledore couldn't help him if he didn't know. Another breath hitched in my throat, and my face crumpled again, and I turned away from Ron's concerned face. It was all too much to take in, or release. I had hardly grasped the plain truth of Harry's probable death, now I had to explain it. I didn't understand it; suddenly I didn't understand anything anymore.

Ron made a hushing noise, and tried to pull me back into his arms. I pushed him away, shaking my head furiously and turning to face the dark wood paneled walls. The room reminded me painfully of every aspect of Harry. His thoughtful nature and his total disregard for himself.

His total disregard for himself until now, my logical brain called to me. I shut my eyes, shaking the thought away, but it was there now, it was stuck. Suicide was a cowards' death, Harry deserved to live a hero, and Harry deserved to live. Why would he drunk such a thing? Why would he leave us? Leave us to suffer under a dark lord's rule?

Harry was the only thing between us and Voldemort. I sobbed again, feeling someone's hands clasping at my shoulders, and a voice whispering consoling words into my ears. I shrugged them off and moved to the wall, pressing myself hard against the smooth texture. I pressed my face to the cool wood.

Where was I? Where was the logical, rational, hard working, calm Hermione? I hated being like this, I hated the lack of control. This is what I had always feared, losing control. What kind of friend was I if I couldn't have stopped this? Harry's behavior made more sense now than before. Harry was always a quiet boy. Always thinking, but then again he was always mucking around and laughing with Ron. Lately he had been quieter than usual. I'd put it down to the recent happenings, the loss of Sirius, the department of mysteries. Now I see I should have paid more attention. I should have been focusing on Harry rather than my arithmancy, rather than trying to push Ron's affections away. Sadder still, I was doing all those things for Harry, getting smarter for Harry, saving myself for Harry, and he may have never noticed anyway. During all that, I had forgotten to focus of Harry, I was distracted, and I was paying dearly. I had broken my sole promise to him, Always be there for him, and I was paying dearly.

"You're not listening to me!" I spun around. Ron and Ginny were directly behind me, and stepped back in shock. They were scared. "You're not listening to me" I shouted again, they looks taken aback, but do nothing. I cast my eyes around wildly, and notice the group of scared Gryffindors' crowding the room.

"Oh" I exhale, a sharp edge of anger on my voice, I glared at the large crowd around the door. "Don't you have anything better to do?" The crowd immediately burst into a crackling sea of sound, some moving towards me and some leaving- I could see Ginny trying to reach me through the surge of people, but I turned away.

Ron grasped my shoulder, but I pushed him away once again. I climbed onto Harry's bed, pushing my face into his pillow, and crying harder. My chest felt as if it was ripping open, my pain was so raw, I felt like I couldn't bear to live any longer.

Where was the logical Hermione now?

I could hear Ron and Ginny discussing in quiet tones;

"She's not herself, Ron, She's worried"

"I'm worried too, Gin. Usually-"

"Oh? Usually? This usually happens does it?"

"No- It's just- I don't know"

-but I didn't care. How could I care about something so small? _Harry poisoned himself._

What if he died? What would I do?

I don't need Harry to live. _I do._ The young, quiet, cautious boy I vowed to look after, like a brother. _He's not my brother. _You vowed to love him like a brother. _What about as a lover? _You can't love him.

I stopped still.

I couldn't love him. _Why?_ Because he wouldn't let me.

"Hermione…?" I blink; my arm is being shaken gently. I realize I must have cried myself to sleep. I turn my head slowly, my head aching from the sudden movements around me. I glimpse Ron crouching by the side of the bed. He smiles softly and sadly.

"You don't look well. You alright?"

I open my mouth, feeling choked, no answer leaves my mouth.

"You're not, are you?" I shake my head, he rubs my arm. "McGonagall wants to see you"

I recoil instantly, my instinct reaction being to cry and run screaming.

Ron smiles tiredly, he must have been up all night, I notice as I see the morning sunshine across the floor. Ironic, that it is sunny on a day like this.

"It's about Harry" My stomach flips and I look up, fearing his next words, _Please let him be okay, please let him be okay, please…_

McGonagall stands behind Ron, and clears her throat, my vision blurs for a moment as I focus on her. She nods; I nod back, and move my stiff muscles to stand up. She waits patiently.

She leads me from the room, and past the staring faces of my peers. It dawns to me that I must look like a mess, my hair would be a frightful mess, and I'm probably in desperate need of a shower.

The corridors are quiet for a Sunday afternoon, the news of Harry's illness must have spread fast…many would probably believe it was contagious as the facts got mixed and twisted as it passed from person to person. I follow McGonagall, her stride was precise, and with aim. I walk behind, weakly, slowly, watching her feet.

"Miss Granger…"

I look up, not able to meet her eye. I knew what she was going to ask.

"Why was Mr. Potter's condition not brought to our attention?"

"It was" I mutter, in a voice that is not quite mine, yet the answer isn't quiet mine either. Hermione granger would never be so rude as to give an arrogant answer.

"Days too late, Miss Granger. He is terribly ill"

"Will he die?" I ask quietly, watching her mouth. It sets into a grim, thin line.

I hold back my tears at her lack of answers, the teacher, who I had always trusted, and relied on so blindly. A figure I looked too, a profession I admired. This was the first time she had not been able to soothe my thirst for knowledge.

"What you have done is highly irresponsible and very unlike you, Miss Granger- Hermione" She informs me, somehow the use of my name made it all the worse. "I expected better"

"So did I" I breathe, as we stop at the hospital wing doors.


	6. I'll Cry you a river

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Wordwaterfall

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N** Mmhmm, catching up now_

**Look after me: Chapter six**

I can smell the varnish on the doors, the doors are vast, and I know that two rows of beds lie beyond it, and Harry is in one of them. _Dying_. My knees shake, my hands shake, and I'm a quivering mess. My guard is down. My guard, my flawless, guard that allowed me to survive years of taunting, years of solitude, years of broken feelings. I have always been the strong one, the correct one- I have always been there, I had always been strong. I never asked for anything in return, But Harry has always been there for me, regardless of my manner.

The door stares right back at me, its open partner creaks in the soft summer breeze, a soft summer breeze that my numb body can't feel. McGonagall's hand holding the door ajar, her hands always reminded me of my grandma, and crinkled paper.

She was waiting, waiting for me to walk in there and see Harry, waiting for me to look resolved, to be confident. Waiting for me to believe he would be alright- like he always was. Harry gets injured, too many times for my liking, I have to say. But he never gets Ill.

I never remember him being ill, I remember him being unconscious, I remember him with broken bones and I only ever remember him to have a few weak colds, but never ill.

"Miss Granger…?"

A hand on my shoulder, I turn my head slowly. A firm hand pushes the small of my back, my headmaster's gentle voice breathes in my ear. "He's been asking after you"

He's awake, the thought flashes neon in my mind. He's talking. We stop, the gentle force at my back suddenly dropping away. I open my eyes, I can't remember closing them.

I see him. I see Harry, and I stumble. My knees make a painful crack on the floor, my tears falling fast onto the flagstones, collecting the dust, creating a river. The afternoon light glinting in the rivulets, and for a moment I'm transfixed. I pitch forward onto my palms. I slowly lower my head to rest on my hands. The image of Harry so bleak, I could still see it as though it was nailed to my eyelids.

His face is so pale, his eyes closed with a terrifying finality which scares me to no end. The Hospital wing is silent; the sounds of my sobs echoing around my head in a cruel taunt.

Two pairs of hands pull at my arms, pulling me to my limp legs, I cry harder, falling forward, onto someone's chest, they catch me and I inhale the familiar scent of Ron, and I instantly find myself craving Harry's.

Poor Harry, Can't you see you're breaking my heart?

I'm moved forwards, and my noisy tears cease as I'm pushed smoothly into a chair at Harry's side, replaced with silent droplets sliding down my skin.

"Oh, Harry" I mutter pleadingly.

His eyes open blearily, grey, circles of grey. I always described gray as lifeless, lifeless grey.

"Oh, Harry" I repeat, shuddering "Your eyes" He looks so tired. I can already feel him slipping away and my heart cracks a little bit every time a pained cough escapes his mouth.

"I'm sorry" His voice, already weak, breaking "I'm so sorry"

"No, Harry- Don't be-"I ramble, I don't want him to over exert himself. There, I thought, that sounds more like the Hermione Granger, I know.

He shakes his head, and coughs.

"Don't waste you're energy" I wipe away my tears fiercely, not wanting him to see me cry. "You need that to stay alive"

"I don't want to" He says, brokenly. I close my eyes, and turn my head away,

I struggle choosing my words. "For me, Harry…"


	7. That leads to your ocean

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Wordwaterfall

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N** Oh...A chapter…Clap!_

**Look after me: Chapter seven**

"He's rejecting the antidote" Madam Pomfrey stated, her nose in the air, she strode from the room. I don't think there has ever been a time when Madam Pomfrey was failing to help a patient. She isn't quite sure how to take the feeling of helplessness. The feeling Harry often instigated in me. I hadn't left the hospital wing; I can't bear the thought of coming back to an empty bed. Not without saying goodbye at least. My food is brought to me, I shower here, and I sleep here, anytime I can sleep anyway.

Harry is sleeping; he is unable to do much else. Every now and again he'll open his eyes but even this is too strenuous a task nowadays. Nobody has a solution, people filter in and out to visit, I hardly notice anymore. People bring sweets Harry would never have the appetite to eat. Everyone is saying his or her goodbyes, like it is final, like there is no hope. I need hope; I can't leave him to die- but I can't help him live either. I can't bring myself to search for a cure, afraid I wouldn't be able to find one. The only person that could battle it was Harry, if he had the will to stay alive, he wouldn't die. He would give us time to fight.

That's what I desperately refused to understand. He will never understand the disbelief, the grief he would leave behind. The tears, the fear- and even if Voldemort is vanquished at his passing, he would end the physical war, but never the emotional war, and what If Voldemort didn't die? What then?

I drop my head into my hands; I feel the cold bed frame against the back of my wrists. I feel imprisoned, like I am in handcuffs. Locked up.

A shaking hand strokes my hair. I pause, savoring the sensation, drinking in the comfort that is offered. I don't understand Harry; I don't understand why you have to leave me. I clasp the hand in my own, and bring it to my lips, setting a whisper of a kiss on his palm. His skin is cold, but there is a ghost of his warmth there. Oh, Harry, How could you do this to me?

"I'm saving the world, 'Mione" He gasps weakly, between heavy gasps that tug at my heart. I turn my head slowly to one side,

"Shh, Rest" I tell him, while my mind screams that his theory will fail, that he is wrong. I can't shut of the thoughts. I don't want him to waste his remaining strength on me. I didn't deserve it, I should have been able to stop this, and I failed him. He expects to protect people, and forgets the person closest to him protecting him in return. Me. I was the weak link in the chain that is Harry Potter. I can't protect him properly; I underestimated how much protecting he needed. I underestimated his limits, all this time I thought I knew Harry Potter, and I didn't know him at all.

Oh, Harry, Don't you know you're breaking my heart?

He regards me with pain in his eyes, he tires of waiting to die, I know. Tired of me clinging so desperately, but I won't let go I can't, and I wouldn't. His eyes flitter closed, but his fingers still play lightly with mine. If only there was a way I could back part of his pain, share his load. That is when I realized, there was a possibility I could.

This was the first time I had left the hospital wing for a month.


	8. Packing away the memories

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Wordwaterfall

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N** Yes, I know, An update, How rare!_

**Look after me: Chapter eight**

I closed the heavy book with a sigh, the crackled, crinkled, aged paper groaned in protest of being moved. I lean back in my chair. The lamps of the library are slowly being extinguished by Madam Prince. She's aged quicker these days I notice. She looks at me sadly as she passes, leaving a small lit lamp on my table, she lacks the heart to send me away. I feel that often from most people, they are too worried to talk to the girl who is falling apart, the girl who is becoming unreconisable. Even Ron avoids saying too much these days, something which I would never had expected from him of all people, not with Harry as he is.

I smile at Madam Prince; "I'm done here, Thank you" I say softly, pretending to not notice how weak my voice sounds. She smiles back, nods her head, and looks at the book in my arms.

"Do you want me to take that, Dear?" I look at the book, recalling the way she used to use my name when she addressed me. It saddens me that things had changed.

"No" I shake my head "I'd like to take this out, if that's okay?" Her frantic nodding tells me that it is, and I smile my thank you, and left the quiet library. I shut the doors behind me, and pause to take a breath. General depression was to be expected. The corridors are dark as all signs of day left the grounds. My steps are loud as I start on my way again. I notice shadow flickers in the weak light cast from the magic candles onto the stone walls. The walk back to the infirmary is endless, the corridors stretching ahead of me for miles- But that was wishful thinking. I am soon at the infirmary doors.

I enter the infirmary silently, and walk towards Harry's bad more with my instinct than my brain and consequently I walk straight into Ron's back.

"Hermione" He states, blinking at me, clearly not expecting me. Which was a bit stupid, I think, I was here everyday.

"Ron" I nod and look to Harry. He is asleep, his breathing slower then I like. I sigh, and move to sit down, and then I notice what Ron is doing. He had placed a cardboard box at the foot of Harry's bed, and he is slowly packing all the sweets and get-well presents that Harry had received tidily away.

This unsettles me more than I could express. "What are you doing?" I ask in a horrified whisper.

Ron looks at me guiltily. "Harry said the colors hurt his eyes" He says sadly, continuing his packing. "When he was awake earlier..." He continues. I was silent for a few moments, and Ron watches me carefully, then he turns his face away. "He asked after you, you know" That lifts my spirits a little. "He was upset when I said you weren't here"

I watch him pack the gifts away for a few more minutes. "That looks so final" I say quietly. He looks up alarmed.

"Oh, No, Hermione! No-" He stops, his eyes glistening. He grabs the last few items in his hand and throws them into the box unceremoniously and closes the lid. "It wasn't meant to look like that" I inhale shakily, and brought my hand up to rub my face.

"Do you hate him?" I stop, staring at Ron.

"How could you- How could you even ask that!" I mutter in a harsh, angry whisper. I felt ill, I realize I understand why he felt such a thing.

"He didn't even think about us as he drunk that poison, Hermione, Any of us! He doesn't care about what happens to us when he dies!"

"Please don't say that" I don't want to be told what was inevitable.

"It's true Hermione! He's going to die, we can't stop that!"

I place my hands over my ears childishly, and shake my head madly. The fresh sting of new tears pulls at my eyes. I shut them. Willing Ron to stop.

"He will die, and he will leave us here alone. He will leave us to explain what he did; we'll be the ones to tell the world that Harry Potter was a coward! That Harry Potter drunk poison because he was scared, because he was selfish!" Ron's tone was more urgent now, more persistent. I felt as though my heart was ripping apart.

I pitch forward onto Harry's chest, my sobs become louder than Ron's shouting.

Two arms wrap around my middle wrenching me away from Harry. I scream in protest, begging not to be taken away from Harry, pleading to be left alone. I scramble for Harry's hand, but my arms are held to my side tightly.

"Miss Granger!" A voice shouts near my ear. I yield instantly, tears swimming down my face, my chest heaving. I look straight into the eyes of Dumbledore, there is a warning there, before he broke away, rushing to Harry's side.

Harry is sitting upright, coughing violently, and looking as though he wanted to scream. My eyes widen, my heart rate quickens. What had I done to him?

I clasp tightly at whoever is holding me, and watch Harry struggle, unable to pull my eyes away.

Eventually he stops coughing, and keels over sideways, motionless into Dumbledore's waiting arms.

This is it, I knew it. I watch the scene, Horrified. I completely forget about the book I had left on the floor.


	9. Finding Hope

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Word waterfall

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N** Update! oohhh! Plus, I've revised and reposted all of the previous eight chapters, filling holes, etc_

_Enjoy!_

**Look after me: Chapter NINE**

The room is dark now, the atmosphere grim. What else could it be? Crying seems like the best decision, yet somehow I don't trust my decisions anymore. The curtains are pulled over the windows, blocking out the summer day; It was so ironic I could almost laugh, you never connected death with a summers day. It wasn't right. Death is rain, cold, and snow. Not sun. I wonder is Harry is even aware of the sun. I shake my head. He was the reason the curtains were pulled in the first place, any stream of light, and he panics, kicking and screaming until he exhausts himself. That's not the only reason they're pulled, it's a mark of respect, I suppose, to the dead; or the dying.

There is a finality in everyone's eyes, it hurts to see that. Even Ron has lost hope. My own is in a rapidly dwindling supply. I run my hands over my face, then through my hair. I'm a mess, and so is Ron, but we can't leave him. Not when…not like this. It disgusted me to even believe this was happening, but it would be selfish to myself, and Harry to pretend it wasn't.

I feel that a piece of me will die with him.

"I can't believe this" I look up, following the sound of Ron's hoarse voice. His face is pale against his fiery hair, his eyes glint with tears that would be unmanly to shed. It strikes me that he was holding them back for my sake, I don't answer him. I look to Harry then.

Something was different today, he looks rested. Although I have to bend so close, just to hear his breathing. He looks like he was just sleeping, just sleeping, maybe I am holding wishful thoughts. My view wanders towards Ron again, he had one hand on Harry's bicep, running his thumb gently back and forwards. The scene was so beautiful, I almost broke down.

I can't bring myself to touch Harry. It would remind me of what I was about to lose. I would lose him without ever telling him the three words that he longed to hear, I would lose him while only being able to hold him while he was dying.

He's leaving us to fight the war, but I can't be angry with him. There was no time, and too much regret to be won. I squared my jaw standing up slowly, I didn't know where I was going to go, but I'm suddenly startled as I scuff my toe, and stumbled over an obstacle on the floor.

_The book._ I had forgotten! How stupid of me! Stupid, stupid—

I snatch it up from the ground, and stare at it. I held little hope that it would work. Little hope, but hope regardless. I look at Ron, and he is watching me curiously.

"What's that?" He asks, nodding at the book in my hands.

A book, I almost answer back snappishly, "Hope" I mutter, before rushing to Harry's other side, towards Ron.

"I found this earlier, in the library, it says something about poisons being sucked out of a human body into another object, human or animal" I say quickly, flicking through the pages with abandon, searching for my book mark.

Ron releases a small laugh "Hermione—"

I quiet him with a noise, and continue to search for my bookmark. "Let me find it"

"The headers on the pages say 'Theories!'" He mutters, "Stop it, we can't fight this"

"Ron! We are stronger than this, we should fight to his last breath, he would fight until ours" I pause, finding the page, my breathing is faster now.

"Theories, Hermione--!"

"-Have to come from somewhere" I cut across, "They have to come from somewhere"

I tapped the page, signaling to him to read. He does, reluctantly, moving away from Harry to do so.

"There's some Latin here, I think they could be-" He starts, his fingers underling a few foreign words.

"Incantations, Yes, That's what I thought" I smile, "We could save him"

"It might not work" He counters,

"But it might! Remember what Snape used to say? 'Put a stopper on Death'?" I move the book away, scanning the page once again.

"We can't get our hopes up-"

"Ron" I shout, finally reaching the end of my patience "We could try this, or end up fighting the war ourselves, without Harry! We need him. To fight Voldemort, we're not a match for him. We need Harry!" I stop, my breaths coming in short gasps.

Ron nods, and something flickers in his eyes. "Fine, we'll try it, Alright" He looks afraid. "What do you want me to do?"

"We need to find an object, it has to be quick big" My heart beats faster, and faster. We could save Harry. We could save Harry.

Ron nods and leaves the infirmary at a run.

Harry stirs, and lets out a small groan in his sleep.

"Hold on Harry, we're fighting for you"


	10. Sacrifice

**Title: Look after me**

**Written by:** Word Waterfall

**Summery:** _Harry gets Ill, He never gets ill, but when he does, who will help him?_

_**A/N**__ Oh...God. I'm sorry for leaving this so long. I don't have an excuse really :P I just forgot about you all. I'll make up for that now :P I'm finishing this story in a few chapters, but my project before Christmas is to edit this story for portkey. I'll be editing the story, fleshing out the story line, and making it longer. My writing skills have advanced since I began this story, and after studying grammar- I realize it is a bit…er…wrong. Lol. So I'd love it if you could all come support me there :) I'll keep ya posted._

**Look after me: Chapter Ten**

Tears left Ron's eyes as soon as he knew he had run from Hermione's sight. He knew that there was no hope; they couldn't do anything to stop this. It would have been done already. It shouldn't have progressed this far, now Hermione was frantically grabbing at theories, and words from a man that detested the patient, Severus Snape. She must know, he thought logically, because she thought logically. Always, that was Hermione Granger- But when it came to Harry Potter…Who knew anymore.

He stopped and leaned against the cold glass of a window, this corridor where no sound could be heard. Ron knew he would be safe here. He pulled his sleeves over his hands, and wiped his eyes, he settled into the crook between the wall and the window, burying himself as deep as he could in his school robes. Hermione loved Harry. It didn't hurt him to think about it anymore. How could it? Of course Harry would have won her, he won everything else. He shouldn't think like that, Harry would probably be gone by next week. He shouldn't be jealous anymore. Tears crashed to his eyes like a wave breaking on the shore. He didn't want to cry; crying was somehow beyond this situation. Shouldn't Harry have known how this would break them? Isn't that how they were? The golden trio that knew each other so well. Apparently not, then again, death can stop anyone in their tracks. Three's a crowd. Maybe that was their curse. Maybe the chain was doomed to break from the start.

There weren't any signs to show this, nothing to show that his path would be led. An ignorant suicide attempt, a broken heart- no, two broken hearts. Ron wasn't sure that he and Hermione could come back after this. It looked like Hermione's soul was slowly bleeding out through her tears, and Ron could try and catch it in a jar and keep it for her- but he'd never catch it all, he could repair some of the ripped fabric, but could never complete it the way he could if Harry was there. The golden trio. Complete. Unbroken. Eternal.

A hiccup bubbled through his sobbing, and the sound made him stop. What was he doing? Crying here like a fool wasn't going to fix this. Hermione needed his help to fix this. Hermione couldn't fix this. She couldn't. Could she? Ron rubbed his hands in circles on his temple.

_Scratch, scratch._

Ron looked up, and straight into the large amber eyes of Hedwig, Harry's snowy white owl. She had lost a few feathers, and had the look of an ill animal, but there was determination in her eyes.

"Hey, Hedwig" Ron whispered, and stretched a single finger to pet her. She cooed softly and placed a talon on his leg, comforting him. Ron hiccupped and smiled at her. "Everything will be good again, one day, right?" She cooed again, and stretched her wings, fluttering softly to rest on Ron's shoulder. She nibbled his ear gently.

Get going. Move.

Ron sighed, but felt as if he had to move. Get going. Move. He rose to his feet, careful not to dislodge Hedwig from her position. She hooted in protest when he moved to the window, as if to let her out.

"She doesn't want to go out, don't you understand?" The vague, musical voice of Luna Lovegood, Ron knew that voice. He turned his head slightly, and he could see her from the corner of his eye.

"She can't be inside," He answered, still holding the window open.

"She wants to help, Ronald"

Ron closed his eyes, irritation swelled inside him- he didn't know it was because she was there, or that she was claiming to know what a bird wanted, it might have been that she called him Ronald.

"Yeah, well, we all want to help but there isn't much we can do is there? In fact, there is nothing we can do? Get it, Hedwig?" The owl only dug her talons deeper into Ron's shoulder.

"She is what you're looking for" Ron turned fully to look at Luna, and she smiled serenely at him. "She is what you need"

Ron's heart dropped to his stomach. Luna couldn't know what she was talking about. _(I found this earlier, in the library; it says something about poisons being sucked out of a human body into another object, human or animal) _Could Hermione be right?

Ron looked at Hedwig. "You would really do that for him?" Hedwig hooted in consent, and Ron looked at her sadly, "You know what will happen to you?" Hedwig pressed her wing to Ron's neck, nestling closer. Now Ron knew why Harry was so close to his owl. An owl was willing to commit the ultimate sacrifice for her owner. Ron watched her carefully, before nodding, "Okay, Hedwig".

Ron turned to thank Luna.

She was gone.

"I hate this, Harry" I clutched at his hand. Ron has been gone a while, and I was growing restless. Theoretically this could work, with strong enough magic, I could save him. I can only hope that I have that strength within me, but I'm willing to try. Anything.

And then. When he wakes up. I'll tell him.

I, Hermione Jane Granger love Harry Potter, and Harry Potter was breaking my heart.

"_You don't know what its like!" _

"_Know what Harry?" I shook him, and he spluttered and panted "Know what?"_

"_What it's like!" He gasped "Knowing you're going to kill or be killed. Knowing you're putting your friends in danger with each breathe you take. I read- and I had a theory-"_

"_A theory! You took a poison because of a damned theory!" I was angry, so angry._

Now I was riding on theories, and if I managed to save him? He would need to be monitored closely, I suppose…and I would need to be there for him. Stop something like this every happening again, never allow him to be alone, never allow him to despair. He would never be alone again. The golden trio could be stitched back together, and we would all be saved.

And if I didn't managed to save him? I couldn't think of that now.

"I'll be your strength, Harry, I can stop this"

The doors to the infirmary clatter open and I stand up, my chair cluttering in unison.

"Ron"

"Hermione"

He walks towards me, Hedwig rests on his shoulder and I've never felt so comforted in my life. The image of that Owl, coming to our rescue. In legends, and myths birds had always held such power, been so smart. A bird was a royal advisor in that Disney film, the Lion king. I remember the film and I laugh, holding my arm out as Hedwig flies towards me.

"Hello, Girl, Have you come to visit Harry?" I smile at her, glad that the one thing that's been constant thought out Harry's life had come to comfort him.

Ron's voice broke across my thoughts "_it_ says something about poisons being sucked out of a human body into another object, human or animal"

My first thought is to ask him why he was repeating that, and that I knew that already- then I realized. Animal. Ron wanted Hedwig to die for Harry.

"Ron- We can't…its Hedwig"

"She wants to, Hermione, She came to us" He replied, a tear slipping down his face.

I sigh, and look at Hedwig.

"You've always been there for him, what's one more time?"

Hedwig hoots and I feel comfort flow through me. She flies to Harry.

Ron and I move to either side of our best friend, each with one hand, a few silent moments as friends, and the best of friends.


End file.
